


How many lives do Dragons have?

by snekinju



Category: Skyrim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 09:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18312800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snekinju/pseuds/snekinju
Summary: The adventures of a cat with a Dragon-like personality trying to find her long-lost brother, along with everyone's favourite witty mercenary at her side.





	How many lives do Dragons have?

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginning of my first series of fanfic that I've made public. I have been writing for years and this piece and everything that entails is very meaningful for me - comments and criticisms are always appreciated!
> 
> This will be a group of slowly uploaded one-shots.
> 
> -snekinju

1 - Snowy Beginnings

A horde of bandits and Forsworn were wrapped in an enraged battle near Sunderstone Gorge. Blood splattered, teeth flew, antlers stabbed torsos, you know the type.  
From a treetop not too far away, an adventurer and her hireling watched, silent, observant, deadly.  
The adventurer drummed gloved fingers against the rough bark and her tail swished the near bare branches. The season was slowly changing to Sun's Dusk, and the cold months were coming. A telltale sign was the sky radiating an azure blue, and the visible breath emitting from underneath the hireling's mask.  
"I hate the cold," he grumbled quietly, tucking his free arm underneath his shoulder for warmth. His other arm was wrapped around the thick tree trunk.  
"This one observes you hate everything," the adventurer replied.  
"Humph. Try catching snow in Blacklight."  
Silence for a moment.  
"We shall climb down now." The adventurer stated.  
As they scampered down the tree (accompanied by the thick Dunmeri curses from the less cat-like of the two snapping branches) it got slightly warmer. Still, the hireling was not happy.  
"I think we should make a fire," he said matter-of-factly, stomping childishly in the white blanket.  
"Khajiit would like to know where you will obtain this dry wood," his boss said. It had been snowing for days now, and firewood was becoming increasingly hard to come by.  
"Don't underestimate me, cat. I have a few tricks up my sleeve." He retorted.  
"... Khajiit would also like to know how summoning a wolf will help the situation."  
The hireling grimaced and narrowed his eyes behind the pearly white goggles of his helmet.  
"If it would get rid of you..." He mumbled.  
"Friendly reminder that this one holds your payment."  
"Bah, fine. But I still don't like you."  
They began meandering in the general direction of Sunderstone Gorge, kicking snow along the way. A near-frozen river to their left and thick wall of trees to the right. The cobbles of the main path looked like little snow dunes, the adventurer noticed.  
"Teldryn knows he simply adores Khala-Shea," she said, smiling. Her teeth glinted similarly to her Aetherial Crown.  
"No, Teldryn does not." The hireling joked.  
"He lies." Khala-Shea said.  
Teldryn looked at her, distracted.  
"Aren't we wandering straight into that fight?"  
"They are s'wits," Khala explained. "They shall kill off one another. The father will murder his brother, his brother will murder his son, his son his daughter. That is their fate."  
"And the last man standing?"  
"The horker shall likely impale himself with his own blade," she said.  
"Horker?"  
"You catch this one's drift."  
"Alright," Teldryn said. "If you're sure."  
"Khajiit is forever sure. Intelligent. Dunmer is a s'wit."  
"Did you just insult me in my own language?"  
"This one knows not of what you speak," Khala said nonchalantly. "This is an insult originating from home. Elsewyr."  
"And not from Morrowind." Teldryn rolled his eyes.  
The two were quiet for a while, watching some mudcrabs along the river bank. Their boots thumped quietly along the padded stones and light flakes of snow began to fall. Some Pine Thrush flew overhead to the nearby forest, reminding Teldryn to go hunting later.  
What worried him now was how the familiar sounds of steel against armour could be heard past some trees up ahead.  
Khala shushed her companion and beckoned him with her, ducking behind one of the thicker trunks. She peered out in front of her at Sunderstone Gorge, still practically ablaze with both fire and fight. She stood and waved her arms above her head.  
"What are you doing, you cretin!? Calling the bastard n'wahs over?" Teldryn snarled.  
"They do not see us." Khala replied simply, folding her arms and swishing her tail thoughtfully. "Perhaps this can be used."  
Teldryn stood and dusted the snow off his shin plates. Then came to a realisation. "You lying little..."  
Khala looked at the battle. Then at Teldryn. Then at the battle. Then back at Teldryn.  
"...No." The Dunmer warned. "Don't even think about it."  
Khala said nothing, but took a small step towards the Gorge.  
"Don't do it."  
She took a second step, then a third.  
"I'm serious. We're not going over there. I'm not dying today." Teldryn said.  
The Khajiit slowly began walking backwards, reaching for the gleaming red scythe on her hip.  
"If you so much as touch that other sc- Come back here!" Teldryn yelled. Khala turned heel and ran towards the fight, drawing her sword.  
"Oh, fine! Go on, leave me here. I'm not saving you!" He called after her, folding his arms. He really wasn't saving her this time. Not even when all the bandits saw her and brandished their weapons. No, she had gotten herself into this. This time he was not going after her. Not today. He wasn't dying at the hands of some n'wahs. Not for anyone. Especially not her. Nope.  
This, of course, was all thought as he instinctively drew his sword and his hand burned with crackling magic. He found himself inching closer and closer to the Gorge. Not saving her, though. Just helping out. It was nice to kill someone once in a while. That's what mercenaries do, right? But he wasn't saving her.  
A Forsworn Briarheart looked right and spotted Teldryn, then called to his companions and pointed.  
"Nerevar guide me..." He groaned.

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that whilst I love Sero, I will not be writing him into a relationship with my Dragonborn. 
> 
> Please review!


End file.
